Start Again
by tomhollandstea
Summary: Clary was taken by her father, a drug lord in Italy when she was only four years old. Ever since, he'd shaped her daughter into something unrecognizable by the people who knew her as a baby. When she arrives back in New York, how will everyone take seeing her so different and so...broken? Pretty OOC, pairing as per usual.
1. Chapter 1

**So I'm back after a long ass hiatus that I apologize sooo much for! Life has gotten in the way but I do plan on finishing my other stories.  
Check them out if you'd like, they will be updated in the next week at least. They haven't been updated since like May...  
Yeah I'm a bad person sorry...**

 **I created this out of sheer boredom and I really liked it so I decided I would start another story and put it on my plate as well as my others. They will be updated once a week. I'll have my schedule at the bottom of the story so you can be aware :)**

 **Disclaimer: Yeah I own all of these characters, everything is mine! (Thick layer of sarcasm)**

"Suspect and accomplices have been detained. Check for any others." His radio sounded, the officer clicked his radio on.  
"Copy that." Officer Lightwood replied, looking at his partner. They began walking back down a dark unknown hallway. They both had their weapons out, their bodies tense with alertness.  
"I'll go first." His partner and best friend spoke. He was Michael Wayland, they were as close as brothers and joined the force at the exact same time. They slowly walked down the hallway that was painted blood red with dark floors. Michael stopped suddenly, shifting on the floor and hearing a creak.  
"What is it?" Robert asked, looking at Michael with a frown.  
"There's something under here. Here, help me." With that, the two sheathed their weapons, pulled back and a rug and found a secret hatch. They looked at each other, almost reading each others mind. Micheal reached for the hatch handle and Robert stopped him.  
"We should wait for backup."  
Michael hefted it open anyway, "It'll be fine. You call it in if it makes you feel better."  
Robert did just that. He was always the more responsible one of the two anyway. Michael was more of the type do-now-think-later and Robert was the opposite, perhaps it was why they were such good friends, even in their adult years.  
The force said they would send backup but it would take almost twenty minutes since they were having trouble with some of the people they arrested. Michael started down the stairs that were there and Robert had nothing else to do but follow him.  
As they stepped down the stone stairs in the dark, enclosed hallway that made him feel way too claustrophobic, he rested his hand on his gun just in case. As it got too dark for either of them to see, they pulled out their flashlights at almost the same time.  
Robert noted their steps, the hollow sound they made as they made their way to where it took them. There was obviously a room somewhere down below them. "There's a hidden basement."  
Michael nodded, noting his partners words but not replying, he was intent on listening, that was his greatest strength anyways.  
The stairs finally stopped and so did Michael as he flung out a nasty curse. "What is it?" Robert asked then stopped himself, both of their flashlights landed on blood stains, everywhere on the concrete. There were puddles and streaks and dragged blood streaks all over the floor, most looked old but many were new and freshly dried.  
Robert cursed lowly, passing his partner and starting for the floor and off the stairs. The basement was a prison of cells. It was quite small, the cells were only on one side, the right side if you looked on where the stairs were and you turned left. Robert pointed his flashlight down one side and the other, he could see the wall. There weren't that many cells to search, maybe five or six.  
"Split up or same time?" Michael asks, finally knocking out of his stupor.  
"Same, I rather not get into any trouble if anything is down here." They began going to one side of the cells, pointing their flashlights inside. There was no living anything in the first three cells, only rats or insects.  
Inside the cells were chains, manacles and blood stains along with other excretory contents whether fresh or old, either way with no windows it didn't smell very well down here.  
As Robert pointed the flashlight into the fourth cell, he almost missed it and dismissed it as a rodent. But a flash of red caught his eye before he could move on completely.  
"Wait, Mich. There's someone in there." Robert said, trying to get close enough to get a better look. He shown the flashlight on the person and at first thought they were dead. But the figure lifted her head, and Robert realized the figure was barely a teenager if that, merely a child locked in here.  
"It's a child." Michael murmured in disbelief.  
Robert pointed his flashlight in the other direction so he didn't blind the girl. "Hello, little girl. Do you speak English?" Robert asked, using the tone of voice he used with all child, soothing and concerning.  
He saw the girl nod her head. She was curled up in a ball, knees pressed to her chest and head resting on her knees, her arms wrapped around herself and she shivered violently. It was drastically colder down here than it was in the Italian sun.  
"What's your name?" Michael asked, slightly loud making the girl jump and shrink back. Robert gave him a harsh look, one that said he would do the talking.  
"You can tell us, we're going to get you out of here."  
"I've had many people tell me that. Every time they're either lying or they die in the process. I've learned not to believe anything I hear." The girl spoke with a crisp American accent, nothing Italian was in her voice or even her face. She looked more Swedish but she spoke like an American. She also spoke with a certain brokenness that bit at Robert's heart.  
"Well this time it's the real thing." Michael said determined. He walked up to the bolt on the cell and easily picked it with the lock pickers on his tool belt. The cell door sprang open with ease and Michael let Robert walk in cautiously.  
"What did you say your name was?"  
"Clarissa."  
The girl, Clarissa, shuttered slightly as Robert shuffled closer to, slow as can be. It was clear to see that this girl either had major mental issues or physical ones, no clue on what they could be.  
He tried to get the girl to meet his eyes. "What's your last name?" He asked the frightened girl.  
"I don't know." She replied, monotonous.  
Robert knelt down in front of her and she sucked in a tight breathe, turning her head slightly as if she was awaiting a blow. It made Robert's head squeeze, there was no doubt her fear was the works of the men they arrested today. Who knows what they put her through. Robert looked behind him at Michael as they heard footsteps, before long five officers in their unit were standing beside Michael asking questions, most went to investigate the other cells.  
He turned back to the girl and they finally made eye contact, something which she quickly broke and she looked at his chest, eyes moving over his uniform until she settled back, shrinking farther away from him.  
"How do I know this isn't another trap Father set for me. I wouldn't be surprised if it was." She spoke softly, almost talking to herself more than she was Robert.  
He was more confused but he needed to get the girl out of the cell. "Can you walk? Do you have any injuries?"  
She nodded and he looked at her, "Where?"  
"My back. I can move. Multiple torn tissue hurts less than it did the time before." Clarissa stumbled into crouch then pushed herself laboriously into a hunched standing position. Her shirt was almost falling off and went she began to walk toward the cell door, Robert gasped so lowly it hurt his throat. Everyone looked at him, except the girl who simply stopped and looked back at him with almost bored eyes. "I believe this isn't a dream or a test, most of Valentine's men don't act like this around my injuries."  
Robert gently grasped her bicep, helping her out of the cell and he pulled himself together. The other officers were calling orders, calling for another ambulance and letting the men on the surface everything that happened.  
Clary looked at him with emotionless eyes and said something that almost shattered his heart completely. "Did he finally kill me?"

Robert stayed by the girl's side once they were back in front of the large manor where they had busted Valentine and his men. Clarissa sat on the edge of the ambulance, eyes slightly drawn and he could assume her back ached.  
The paramedic said there was no stitches or surgery they could give to piece her back together nor was there anyway they could fix the way it looked. They said it was too damaged and there were many scars, meaning it happened so often, she had too much scar tissue.  
Robert sat next to her and she simply sat there, staring at the ground. Robert was looking at her, analyzing her face. She had a few moments where her face would contract slightly and her mouth would open, almost like to say something, but she thought better of it. It happened a total of four times before Robert's chief called him over to where he and Michael were standing.  
"I'll be right back." He said, Clarissa didn't even acknowledge him.  
He walked over, running a hand through his solid black hair. "We've found her in the New York database." Chief Marshall spoke once he got to them on the grass.  
Robert's eyebrows rose. "That soon?"  
"There aren't that many Clarissa's surprisingly with her size and features." Michael almost smirked at him, Robert could've guess that if he thought about it hard enough.  
"You said that she mentioned that her father could be Valentine Morgenstern. That means that her mother is living in New York with her son. I'm sure you know Jocelyn Morgenstern?" Chief asked, raising his eyebrow at both of them.  
Michael and Robert shared looks of disbelief, she was Jocelyn's daughter? The daughter that everyone thought had died in a fire along side Valentine Morgenstern? Obviously they knew that Valentine was not at all dead, but they most certainly had not thought to even look for Clarissa.  
"Yes, we know her. We didn't even think that-." Robert started.  
Chief nodded, "That there was even a possibility. Neither did we. But if you look at her, doesn't she look like Jocelyn?"  
"What are we going to do with her? She's not in the mental state to simply go back with her mother." Michael asked, staring at her slightly as if he was trying to picture Jocelyn beside the girl.  
Jocelyn Morgenstern, or Fairchild how she likes to go now, was one of Robert, Michael's and both of their family's closest friends. They did most holidays and saw each other weekly. They did not talk about Clarissa often but he even knew that Clarissa was someone Jocelyn dearly missed.  
"Well that's where either you or Robert come in. We were thinking either, since Robert has experience," Robert knew exactly where this was going and he wasn't sure if it was a good idea or not. "Robert would reacclimatize Clarissa back into the community and back with Jocelyn. You've done this before, this is simply a more extreme case."  
Robert agreed easily, Michael raised an eyebrow. Chief gave both of them pats on the shoulders, "Good men. Both of you are released and can take an easy month break before other missions arise. You both earned it."  
"Thank you, Sir." Michael nodded at Chief. Once he walked away, he nudged his partners shoulder. "You agreed without even consulting Maryse? Remember what happened last time?"  
Oh yes, he remembered, though he would like to forget. "This is Jocelyn's daughter, it won't be like last time." Michael just rolled his eyes and Robert grinned at his best friend.  
"I'm going to get going back to the hotel, I'm sure you'll need to do...something." Michael wasn't good with children, only his own and even then he was awkward with them in the toddler stage. Luckily for them, he's better with older kids.  
Robert walked back to Clarissa and she looked up, her face indifferent. It looked like she steeled that picture onto her face and she's had a lot of practice to perfect it. She was curled in a blanket tightly and he face was tight with worry and other things that he had no doubt were swirling inside her head.  
"Are you ready to go?" He asked calmly, smiling at her.  
Clarissa didn't look trusting, setting her lips in a firm line. "Go where?"  
"To home."

 **SO that was the first chapter type thing.**

 **How did you like it? Constructive criticism is something I greatly appreciate!**

 **Okay so I plan on updating this story every Tuesday, my other story** ** _Dark_** **will be updated every Thursday and my last story** ** _Taken_** **will be updated Saturdays. These are pliable to change based upon my schedule as Christmas is soon approaching and I'm taking on finals and three new horses and school has been hell, blah blah blah.**

 **QOTD: Top three favorite bands/singers?**

 **A: Twenty One Pilots, Marina and the Diamonds and either Lana Del Rey or Troye Sivan.**


	2. Chapter 2

**So I said I would only upload weekly but I couldn't help myself since I got a surprisingly amount of reviews on that last chapter.**

 **And I have two issues right now.**

 **One is, the document is like super clumped together it makes me feel like and it really bothers me and I tried to fix it last chapter but it didn't work. Does it bother you guys? DO you even notice it?**

 **Two is, I DIDN'T SAVE MY WORK AND I HA ALREADY WRITTEN AND IT MAKES ME WANT TO KMS RN I SWEAR.**

 **Enough with the rant. Enjoy the chapter :) Let me know how you feel about the layout as well!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own anything except...well nevermind. Nothing at all tbh.**

Clary was scared. Of everything.  
She couldn't remember the last time she was outside, her skin showing the fact, it had to have been years at least. She couldn't remember the last time the sun shown onto her head and made her feel comfortably warm other than unbearably cold or fever burning hot. She didn't remember seeing nature or trees or even cars, she was awestruck but kept it hidden from Robert who was the man who made it his duty to make sure she didn't kill herself or something.  
Like she would be a coward and kill herself. If she wanted to die and give her father what he wanted, she would have simply given up a long time ago.  
They were riding in a slick black car. Clary sat on the left side of the car, behind the driver and Robert sat next to her, a comfortable distance away. She made sure she couldn't touch him or anything of his.  
The saddest thing was, she didn't know what was real and what was fake any longer. She didn't know if everything Valentine drilled into her head was fake, or what he did never happened, or if it was real.  
He had told her that the grass was green, so maybe the thing about men not wanting to touch her was true as well. Though Robert had touched her arm when they were walking out of the disgusting dungeon, perhaps he was forced to, certainly no one would touch her on purpose unless they had to.  
Her mind was going millions of miles a minute, she couldn't focus on one thing. It was going into overdrive.  
And to think, just this morning she was sitting in the cold cell, feeling like it was hopeless. She had a thought that perhaps her Father would beat her, train her, or the tutor would train her. Though her Father supposedly hates her, or hated she wasn't sure which tense to use, but he didn't want an illiterate, stupid child, no matter what. I guess he wanted her to scream and be educated with better words than profanities.  
She stared out the window the whole time, Robert tried to start some sort of conversation which Clary either nodded, shook her head or said nothing at all. It became clear to Robert that Clary wasn't going to speak anytime soon.  
Apparently they were going to a hotel, a temporary place they would stay until she got her back looked at again tomorrow not like they could actually do anything for it, and then they would fly on a plane to New York City.  
Clarissa had learned about New York City, from the photos if it was another life she'd like to visit, but with that many people it made her skin crawl and slight anxiety build in her throat. No possible way that she would be able to be around that many people, it always ended in bad things happening.  
The car began to slow to a stop in front of a large, sky high hotel. Obnoxious flashes were almost blinding Clarissa, people crowding around the door yelling things she couldn't interpret. Clary looked at Robert, her face tight with anxiety. "Don't worry, just try to ignore them."  
Easier said than done. The door opened and she stepped out, her movements stiff and head up. People were calling out questions, her name but she just lifted her head as high as she could and followed where she was supposed to go. She never cared about her image or what she looked like or acted like so if this was some sort of intimidation, they'd have to try harder than that. Who knows what they were trying to do?  
She felt a hand grip her arm, making her almost jumping out of her own god damn skin but saw it was Robert, guiding her inside the hotel. She tried to make her muscles relax but the effort was futile, she just stayed cramped up and walking stiffly next to the tall man.  
When she entered, she tried not to let her jaw drop. It was perhaps the nicest place she's ever seen. When she was with her father, it wasn't like she was never taken anywhere fancy like this, since he was trying to stay under the radar most of the times. It was only the last two years that she never left, when he got more and more aggressive and abusive. Before that, her father took her to many places around the world, never to America though. But this was the nicest hotel she's ever been in.  
Robert walked her to the elevator and they travelled up, up, up all the way to the twentieth floor. The hallway was long and grand, chandeliers ever so often until they reached one of the suite rooms.  
It was one of the nicest rooms she'd ever been in as well. The walls were a homey brown color and the theme of the room was a nice brown and yellow color that screamed hominess at you. "There's two rooms so both you and I will have one." Robert spoke softly. "Make yourself at home, are you hungry?"  
She shook her head, sure she was hungry but she was still a bit nauseous from the medicine they gave her. And even though she seriously doubted Robert would hurt her, there was still a nagging voice in the back of her head that told her that he could do something to her. She turned away as Robert walked into the kitchen and she walked into the large spacious room that was connected to the entry and connected to both of the bedrooms by doors. The outer wall was all glass leading out to a large balcony.  
The first thing she did was walk to the balcony, looking over the edge at the amount of people who were walking around looking like ants. From this vantage point she could see the sea that was on the coast of Italy. She felt her lips twitch up ever so slightly to a smile, it wasn't a smile yet but it was getting there.  
Her fingers ached to have a pencil and paper to draw. Oh how she missed art. It's been three years since she drew last properly. That was before her father locked her in the basement most of the time and before she broke her hand in a fight. It was her drawing hand too. She scowled at the hand and sighed. Drawing was an escape for Clary. Even when her father wasn't being a douche, he wasn't ever nice, she had to escape or express herself somehow and art was how she did it.  
She turned away from the view and walked back inside, closing the door behind her. Robert was on the phone, talking to someone. He placed his hand over the speaker and said, "I'm going to take this in my room, yours is the other door and there are some clothes you can change into."  
I nodded, giving him my thanks without speaking and walked inside the room, shutting the door behind me. Clary was used to seclusion and she knew that she would have to try and fix that since she was out of Valentine's manor, but she didn't particularly care about what Robert felt about her at this moment.  
She walked into the room that had the same color theme as the rest of the suit with a king sized bed and connected bathroom. This must be the master bedroom, Robert had gotten the small one. She felt a slight piece of guilt in her stomach but it was gone soon enough.  
Rummaging through the only set of chest of drawers in the room, she pulled out a pair of leggings, a comfortable looking white tee shirt and a pair of calf high socks, not forgetting clean underwear.  
She decided to take a shower, since it's been at least a week since she'd had one last, and she felt too dirty! She sighed contently as she locked the door behind her.  
Throwing off her pants and shirt, she was left standing in her underwear, looking at the mirror. It's been a while since she'd done this, just stand in the mirror and look at her imperfections. And there were a lot.  
And they were all ugly. She was ugly.  
Her back wasn't the only scars on her but they were the biggest. The brutal whip wounds were overlapping, she couldn't remember how many there were total. Almost fifty she could guess.  
She had multiple stab wounds on her thighs, a jagged one on her left abdomen from a fight between her and one of her father's friend's son. It had ended bloodily, but she still came out on top. As she always did. The most recent bruise on her body was a nasty looking one on her ribs, if you didn't know better, it'd look like the ribs were cracked, but it was just a gross looking bruise from who knows where.  
She slammed her fist down on the porcelain bowl of the sink, relishing in the pain it brought her. God damn she hated her father! She hopes he rots in wherever he is now.  
She calmed herself down before she threw off her soiled undergarments and jumped into the shower. She turned the water up all the way, hissing slightly as the water hit her opened scars but soon those numbed and all she felt was heat and peace.  
If only it could stay like this forever.  
She must have been in there for ages because soon Robert knocked on the door, "Clary, are you alright in there?"  
Clary almost nodded then remember he couldn't see her. She shut off the water, "Yes. I'll be out in a moment." She mustered all her sound and called it out to him, it still wasn't that loud.  
She heard a faint reply and soon she was left alone again. She let out a breathe she didn't know she was holding and grabbed the towel, rubbing off the excess water and drying her hair with it the best she could before grabbing the clothes and pulling them off.  
They fit her, the leggings of course fit since it wasn't that hard to find a pair of pants to fit her small frame. The tee shirt was a bit big but she didn't mind at all. The socks slipped over her feet and she was warm, for once.  
Using a rubber band she found, she puts her hair off of her neck and walked out of the bathroom and her bedroom to find Robert sitting with someone at the table which is set between the kitchen and the living space.  
Robert smiles at her, getting up and the woman stands, holding out a hand to her. "Hello Clarissa, I'm DR. Paisley."  
She doesn't shake her hand, she doesn't know this woman. But the doctor doesn't skip a beat, just putting her hand at her side. "Robert could not get a flight to New York for the day after tomorrow, so we decided to give the checkup here and then you'll fly out tomorrow."  
Clarissa nodded in understanding and sat down at the chair she pushed out for her. Dr. Paisley wrote a few things down, asked her a few questions and even some personal ones that Robert got red faced at, that didn't even make the red haired girl falter. She begins to prod on her limps with cold fingers and she feels her face fall into a scowl.  
Her fingers finally drift to the blinding bruise on her ribcage, Clarissa hisses, jerking away from her and looking at the doctor angrily. "What happened there?" She asks.  
Clarissa snaps, "Just a bruise, though you shouldn't poke at it aimlessly."  
She sees the doctor jerk away slightly at her sudden change in tone, but she goes back to her perky self in no time. She asks for Clary to lift her shirt so she can get a better look and sees the red, yellow, disgusting looking bruise on her ribs. "How did you get that?"  
Robert clears his throat before Clary can growl at her again, "That is classified. You were given the basics of the case."  
Dr. Paisley nods, swallowing largely and checking off a few things before looking at Clary's back. When Clary lifts her shirt to her armpits, she hears the doctor's gasp and low curse. Clary doesn't know whether to be proud of making a conservative doctor cuss or ashamed at the gasp of what she could think of is disgust by the trained professional.  
"Well they're almost healed fortunately." She finally says. "But I'll going to rub this quick scab ointment on the open cuts and call it good."  
There's no warning before she wipes a stinging substance on her open wounds. Clarissa groans low in her throat, tears gathering in the base of her eyes but she wills them down the best she can.  
Too long later, the doctor is finally done and Robert lets her out of the suite. Clarissa is still sitting in the seat, instead pulled up to the table and holding her head up with one hand and drawing with her finger with the other. Robert clears his throat, "Are you hungry?"  
Her stomach growls roughly and she nods. "What would you like? There's not too much in here, sandwiches stuff, mac and cheese."  
Oh good lord, mac and cheese? That holy cheese substance? Just thinking about it now made her stomach rumble and mouth water. Just wanting it so badly makes Clary have a voice finally, "Mac and cheese. Please." She adds a beat later.  
Robert smiles at her and nods, "Coming right up. You can go watch tv if you'd like, I'll bring it to you."  
Clary feels a bit guilty that he's making it but walks over to the television and couch anyway without telling him she doesn't know how to use the television. You'd think something would tell him that she didn't have much free time in luxury.  
She instead finds a book, Of Mice and Men on the coffee tables and settles down to read it. She'd never read this novel before even though she's read a few dozen novels. Reading was one of her favorite things to do, along with art.  
She's curled on the couch under a blanket and indulged in the book by the time that Robert comes out with a bowl of macaroni and cheese. She pauses on her page, almost one third of her way into the book and grabs the bowl, savoring the smell.  
Robert chuckles at the loving look she gives the bowl of pasta. "You seem eager."  
"Thank you." She says before she can stop herself. "I love it." She stuffed a spoonful in her mouth and almost moaned right out, it was as delicious as she thought it would be.  
Robert chuckles at her, "I'm going down to the lobby. There's someone outside the door just in case. I have to clear some things with my partner."  
Clary nods in understanding, murmuring another thank you, before he grabs his jacket and leaves the suite. She can hear him faintly talking to whoever is outside the door and suddenly feels an unsettling unease but she decides to just shove it out of her brain.  
If she kept worrying like this, she'd have a heart attack before she would become an adult.  
Clary got up from the couch after finishing with her bowl of macaroni and cheese, before shoveling the rest of the pasta from the pan into her bowl and padding to the room she was given.  
With an extra blanket, her book and mac and cheese in her hand, she shoved the comforter from the large king sized bed on top of her and began to eat and read.  
She couldn't remember being so content, simply not worrying about anything right now except eating her pasta and reading a novel.  
Her exhaustion finally caught up to her, her lack of sleep from the last years claiming her. She fell asleep with her bowl on the nightstand and the book laying on her chest.

 **Little longer chapter. It was longer before I lost my work...**

 **LeT mE KnOw AbOuT lAyOuT**

 **qotd: Favorite song this week?**

 **A: OOOoh idk, probably Starboy by the Weeknd cuz I'm trash :P**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys :)**

 **Happy Holidays, whatever you celebrate! I hope everyone had a great day with family and got some great presents ;) I know I did.**

 **So here's a late Christmas present. It isn't that good, just another filler, but the next chapter will be getting to the action! Don't worry, but thank you guys for sticking with me so far :)**

 **Lmao also that guest review that asked if I was retarded and why I was on this site...Well my brain is fully functioning, trust me I've had an MRI, and because I do what I want. Also, retarded is a nasty discriminatory word, I'm not sure if you knew that or not...**

 **Disclaimer: If I owned TMI, I would marry Jonathan...That is all.**

A knock sounded on the door, making her bolt up in bed. She would have thought she'd sleep soundly being in such a comfortable bed and not used to getting too much sleep, but most of the night she tossed and turned, and woke up at least five times.

Robert stuck his head inside the room, smiling at her. Though his smiled looked a bit stressed, she wasn't sure why. "Morning. I just ordered breakfast. We need to leave in about thirty minutes so I would get dressed and pack the suitcase." He explained, nodding to the suitcase sitting by the chest of drawers. He was prepared.

Clary nodded and Robert left as a yawn forced its way up her throat. She layed back in the bed, sighing in contentment and sadness that she had to leave it so soon. Finally she pushed her legs out of the heavy comforter and stretched. Her back ached but she just ignored it.

Clarissa walked to the conjoining bathroom and did her morning duties, using the new toothbrush that was sitting on the countertop, the one she saw yesterday before her shower.

Once she was finished there, she stripped off the clothing she was wearing and fished something out of the chest of drawers, she didn't particularly care what. She settled on a pair of black sweatpants, the same white tee shirt that she slept in and a white hoodie. There wasn't much else to really pack in the suitcase that Robert got her, but still, she shoved the clothing from the drawers into the suitcase-not folding them because...Well she didn't know how to. It wasn't that hard but when she tried, it just looked like a wrinkled mess and it looked the same as if she just shoved it all in there.

She zipped up the bag and pulled her hair back into two tight braids, just a way to get it out of her face. She hated having her hair down, anyway that was different than just a regular ponytail was fine with her and when she was bored without a sketchpad, she had to be creative with her hair.

Walking out of her room and into the kitchen, she smelt the best smell-besides Mac and Cheese, in the world. It was bacon. A slight smile twisted up on her lips and she walked to see Robert already sitting at the table, eating a plate. He looked up from his breakfast and pushed a plate to a chair beside him, "This is yours."

She thanked him with a nod and sat down. Needless to say, she did not need to have someone tell her if it was alright if she began to eat, she dug in straight away. Before while, the tiny girl had devoured the whole plate of food, which was surprising for a girl her size and stature. Even Robert looked surprised but he didn't comment on it.

When she got up and excused herself, Robert spoke, "Are you packed?" A nod. "Good because the car is going to be here in five minutes. Of course it is, since I can't seem to keep track of time." He grumbled to himself and grabbed the plates, throwing them in the sink with a clatter and ran to his room.

Clary followed suit, noting he was in a rush and grabbed the suitcase. She remembered to put her necessities from the bathroom in there as well. She left the room and Robert pulled her on from the room with haste. Was that the reason he looked stressed?

As they waited for the elevator to rise to their floor, Clary noted his agitated position and annoyed sighing he did whenever the elevator stopped at different floors. She also saw the tense shoulders he had. She decided to try not do anything to further annoy him, she had experience with men who lashed out when like this and she didn't want to be on the receiving end of anything.

The elevator finally rose to their floor and they hopped on, it soared down to the bottom floor and they rushed from the hotel, Clary's little legs struggled to keep up with Robert's long stride so much she almost had to jog beside him.

When they got outside the hotel, this time there was no one with cameras waiting for them, thank goodness. _I wasn't sure if I could deal with that_ again _after yesterday._ But instead a black car with tinted windows, just like the one they got here in was waiting with a man in a suit leaning against it. As Clary got closer to him, her brows drew in, trying to remember why he looked so familiar.

"Here. We're late, we need to get to the airport." Robert said, rushed, and handed his suitcase to the man. The man took it without question and looked at Clary when Robert turned away.

"Your bag?" He asked, then gave the tiniest smirk that not everyone could see. Clary's lips parted in shock and she almost stumbled onto his backside if she didn't run into Robert, who grabbed her shoulder to steady her.

"What's wrong?" He asked, concerned. Robert shifted Clary's bag to the man and pushed her into the car. Her heart was racing with terror and adrenaline.

It was like her body and mind still thought she was in her father's manor, like it life or death mode. Like she had to fight out. Sure it was like that there, but not here, she could relax. She had to try and relax even though this man, the so-called _driver_ was one of the men who worked for her father and helped punish her if she tried to escape. She felt shivers run down her back at the thought of it.

The driver hopped in and she noticed the lock of the doors before he started the car and pulled away from the curb and began driving toward the airport. Without her consent, she felt panic lace up her arms and lungs. She looked into the rearview mirror and locked eyes with the man, he had the indecency to wink at her.

Her breathing sped up times ten.

Clary surprised herself by turning to Robert, "Do you think we could walk? I bet we could get there in not too long. I know where the airport is, it's maybe a thirty minute walk." She tried not to show her panic attack.

Robert frowned at her. "We're already so late. Tell me what's wrong."

Clary glanced at the driver, again meeting his eyes in the mirror unwillingly. This time they were condescending, but held a sheer warning inside them. "Nothing, I just thought the...fresh air would do good."

She wasn't good at lying.

Robert glanced between the driver and her before shaking his head, thinking best about whatever thought he had before. "It won't take more than ten minutes to get there."

She nodded, trying to control her breathing and racing veins and decided to just stare out the window and think about nothing but nature, anything but her father or any of his loyal subjects. After what felt like forever, they finally arrived at the airport.

Clary wasted no time, jumping out of the car, narrowly getting sideswiped by a taxi that was speeding by. Robert called out at her, but his warning was drowned out by the wind from the taxi in her ears. She looked over and saw the driver side door open and before she knew it, the man-His name started with a P, it was something that started with a P, had grabbed her arm and said in a condescending voice with an underlying tone, "Watch out miss, wouldn't want you to get hit."

Her eyes rose to his without her permission and a memory surfaced in her brain, a memory of him beating her, kicking her in the face until she couldn't see over the blood, him _touching her-_

She didn't stop the scream that escaped her lips, it was a bloodcurdling scream that made everyone stop and wonder if someone was being murdered or attacked. "Let go of me let go of me _let go of me!"_ She shouted at the top of her lungs, yanking her arm out of his grip so hard that she knew she would have bruises where his hand squeezed.

When she was released from his hold, she finally had someone that she could be protected by. Usually Clary would call herself a tough person, she was all she had for most of her teenage life, but as the panicked shakes racked her body, she reached for Robert's arm, clutching onto his sleeve like a lifeline. Robert was frowning looking between the driver and Clary.

The driver, whatever his name was, simply unloaded the bags like nothing happened. Like everything was perfectly fine. The driver dropped the bags off in front of them and tried to grab eye contact with Clary but she physically could not raise her eyes to his.

When the driver walked away, back into his car, Clary was the closest she'd been to someone in a while. She had her arm tightly looped around Robert's, clutching onto his shirt sleeve. Her body was still shaking even though the driver begun to drive away. "Come on, Clary. It's alright, let's get inside."

Clary nodded, releasing herself from Robert's embrace and grabbed her bag. She still felt the feeling of paranoia but just rushed after Robert, walking beside him quickly.

She'd never been in an airport before, let alone rode on a plane. _Well, I would have had to flown on a plane if I was from New York. I just didn't remember it apparently._

The airport was huge, it was the only large one on the coast. The other more international and busier was more inland. This was the _Grosseto Airport_ as announced by different overbearing signs in the building.

Robert guided her between people and started to prepare her for the security check. "Don't worry, they just need you to walk through then we can get to the plane."

She nodded, chewing on her lip in anticipation and nerves, her anxiety was off the charts today. When they got to the checkpoint, she threw her back up on the converter belt and walked to where they told her to go. She walked though a large ring, a metal detector someone said, then a large African American male walked up to her with a wand of some sort. Her eyes got wide and stumbled back a few steps, only to be caught by Robert. "It's fine, he just needs to wave that around."

She took a breathe and held out her arms. It was over as soon as it started and she ducked out of the man's vision and back over to Robert. Her nerves started to get the best of her stomach, she felt like she was going to puke. Just the thought of being cramped into a plane with almost a hundred other people made her queasy.

"Luckily the organization I work for gave us a private plane, so no worries on having other people. Except my partner of course."

She nodded, shaking her hands to ease blood flow back into them after ringing them so many times.

Before long they left the building and walked out to the strip with their suitcases dragging behind them, they didn't have to walk long before they got to the plane and the dropdown staircase. "I'll take those." A man stated, grabbing their bags before they could really process the request. Robert made an annoyed noise in the back of his throat and climbed up the stairs, glancing back at her as she followed closely behind him.

The plane was surprisingly cozy, for such a small space. There were tables in the front along with a couch, then toward the back there were chairs and they folded back into beds with built in televisions.

If flying was like this, she would learn to not mind it!

"Sit wherever you like, I'll have an attendant bring a blanket if you'd like."

"Thank you." She spoke softly, migrating toward the back where the bed and television was. She settled down into one of the chairs and sat there, trying to figure out with her eyes exactly how they worked, especially the beds. Because she was surprisingly tired and she wasn't sure how long this would take anyway.

"Need help?"

She sprung up in her seat, looking toward the owner of the voice. She saw a familiar face, but couldn't put an identity to it. Luckily Robert was behind the man and placed a hand on his shoulder, shoving him back. "Don't sneak up on her, Mic." Robert scolded. "Clary, my partner Michael, Michael this is Jocelyn's daughter Clary, I'm sure you know it anyway."

Michael, the man, nodded. His eyes were slightly unsettling, they seemed to analyze everything about her and look her up and down. She had a feeling he may have meant well, but she wasn't too sure about it. "Nice to meet you Clary, I bet you're excited to get to New York and see your mother and brother."

Clary frowned, looking at the two men. Robert glared at Michael, pursing his lips. It looks like they weren't supposed to share that information with her. She clenched her jaw, "I would appreciate if you wouldn't keep important things like a _brother_ from me. No matter how _fragile_ you think my mental state is." She snapped. She could tell her outburst had surprised the two adults by the way they looked at each other. Robert was the first one to regain his composure and sit down in the seat across from her, Michael followed suit after Robert gave his partner a look.

"Yes, well, you have a brother. He's two years older than you and...Doesn't look like you either. He looks more like Valentine did." Robert explains, trying to soften his words from their meaning. "My children are best friends with Jonathan, your brother, so once you go to live with your mother we'd see each other weekly if not daily."

Clary nodded slowly, gathering the information. She had a brother and he looked exactly like her father. Wasn't that just great. _Of course, with her luck, she'd be reminded of the horrid things that happened in her first years of life. Would he be just like my father?_

"Do I have to go with Joke-My mother so soon? Perhaps...I could stay with you a while just to get my bearings?" Clary asked finally, wringing her hands nervously as the plane began to move. "I've never traveled outside of the town, let alone the country and I..." She trailed off, words failing her.

Robert smiled. "Of course, that'd be fine. You can meet Jocelyn a few times and decide when you'd like to live her with her. There's no bother at all."

Clary nodded, a ghost of a smile on her lips. Robert and Michael got up from across from her and went toward the front of the plane. An intercom came on and told everyone to buckle up. Clary did, it took a few moments but she did eventually.

She gripped the chair handles tightly as the plane began to gain speed and before she knew it, she was jostled and they were in the air.

She gasped before she could help herself. _She was flying, holy shit. She was flying in an actual plane!_ Leaning to look out of the window, she looked amazed at the retreating buildings and they flew toward the ocean.

This was a new part of her life, her life in Italy was long gone.

 **Okay so that wasn't very good. I need a beta.**

 **PM me if you can help with that :)**

 **Question: Favorite present?**

 **A: Lmao probably my Sperry Duck Boots or my new Pink stuff :P Can you say basic?**


End file.
